your string of lights is still bright to me
by qfabray
Summary: what should've happened at carole's wedding. quick multi-chapter.


A/N: Okay, so this is going to be more than one chapter. So don't be alarmed at the ending. I wouldn't just leave you like that.

Quinn was alone. Not in the sense that she didn't have anyone to take care of her or hold her hand, because she did. Kind of. She was literally alone. Sam was God knows where doing God knows what, and she couldn't strain herself to care very much. The only thing that bothered her was that she was looking way too good to be sitting all by herself.

Puck agreed. She did look too good to be alone, and Sam was retarded for leaving her there where anyone could just sweep in and whisk her away. He watched as she sighed, placing her elbow on the table and then letting her chin fall into her palm. She really did look beautiful. Or hot, or whatever. Red definitely looked good on her, which he already knew because he'd checked her out like a billion times in her Cheerios uniform.

He leaned up against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and tugging on his tie. Weddings were boring as fuck. But it was Carole, and she'd practically been his second mom since he was a kid. He owed it to her to be there and she wouldn't let him go in jeans. He could've been at home watching the Rocky marathon on Spike TV. Instead, he'd spent the night scolding Santana because "grinding isn't acceptable at family weddings" and "don't you think you've had enough wine?" didn't seem to stick in her head. Normally he would've taken her into a closet somewhere because red was definitely her color, too. But he wasn't horny, believe it or not, and he was busy wondering why the fuck Quinn looked so sad. Not that he cared or anything.

He thought about going to talk to her, but he didn't want to look like an ass when she rejected him in front of all their "friends." Not again.

Quinn saw him staring at her, jaw clenched and eyebrow raised. He could have at least _pretended_ like he wanted to be here. That's what she was doing. Puck shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and she thought he might've been coming to talk to her. But he wasn't. He was just changing his stance up against the wall. He looked good in a button down. She realized she hadn't seen him in one since Regionals. Quinn cursed under her breath as memories of that particular night came flooding back into her brain. All these months of forgetting, and now she was right back where she started from. She closed her eyes, swallowing heavily. She needed to get the hell out of here.

Puck saw her stand up. Saw her legs shaking with every step she took. It only took a few seconds for him to follow her. He just wanted to make sure none of these drunk dudes tried anything with her. He didn't care or anything lame like that.

She didn't hear him walking behind her. Probably for the better. He figured she might've started running or something. He watched her run her finger along the wall of the hallway. Gentle, as if she were picking those fluffy things off a dandelion. She took careful strides, slowly placing one foot in front of the other.

Quinn was in a daze. She shivered when she finally reached the open door, stepping outside. It wasn't freezing, but she wished she'd grabbed a sweatshirt before she decided to take her little adventure. She wanted to be by the water. It was only a short walk to the lake, which she knew because they'd taken their wedding photos there a few hours ago. She could see the dock from where she stood.

Puck wanted to call out to her. He wanted to ask her where the hell she was going and why she didn't think of him at all and didn't she want to go inside and get a jacket? She could catch a fucking cold or whatever and he remembered she didn't like being sick. He kept following her. She hadn't noticed him yet. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, sighing at the instant warmth they provided. No way in hell she wasn't freezing.

She took the clip out of her hair, letting the blond curls fall down her back. Puck thought about how good it used to look splayed out across the pillow next to him and felt an aching in his chest. Must've been heartburn.

Quinn stopped when she reached the sand, taking off her shoes and pushing her toes into the grain. The music from the reception was blasting behind her, mixed in with the chirping of the crickets surrounding the lake. She didn't jump when he finally stood beside her. She thought it was Sam at first. But she recognized the cologne almost immediately, butterflies filling her empty stomach.

Puck didn't look at her, and she didn't look at him either. They both stared straight ahead, as if the first one to break the silence would be forever doomed. They stayed like that for a while, neither of them saying anything. He saw her shiver, and shrugged his jacket off his shoulders. She didn't complain as he wrapped it around her. She just slid her arms through and breathed him in.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, his voice hoarse. He didn't look at her, and she didn't answer. He knew this would happen. He thought about taking his jacket back just to be a dick, but he could never manage to be mean to her.

Quinn felt him turn to walk away. He'd only taken a few steps before she spoke.

"Do you ever think about her?" Quinn asked, her eyes glazed over with what he hoped weren't tears.

"Every day." He rasped, because honestly, what was the point in lying? He'd been to Hell and back with her and there was no way she'd believe him if he said he didn't think about his girl. His _girls._

She nodded, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Quinn.." Puck started, because he didn't want their conversation to be over just as quickly as it had started. He moved forward, his hands shaky even though he had no fucking idea why.

"Don't. Just.. don't talk. You're ruining it."

He didn't know what **it **was, but he figured he should keep his mouth shut before she started yelling at him like she always did. While he tried to fathom what exactly she meant, she started speaking again.

"I've been thinking a lot lately." Quinn began, turning to face him.

"Yeah?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded again, biting her lip. He got the urge to touch her. So he did. Because he was Noah Puckerman and he'd be damned if there was a girl in the world who didn't want his hands on her. But this was different. He was being.. gentle.. or some shit. He tucked a piece of hair that had been blowing in the breeze behind her ear before settling his hand on her cheek. She blushed, her porcelain skin heating up in the November air. Trying to keep herself occupied on anything but the closeness of his face, she reached forward and took his tie in between her fingers, admiring the fabric. It was cold and silky and was he leaning forward or was she just imagining that? "'Bout what?"

Quinn wanted to slap the smirk right off his face, but she didn't think she could move her hands. She was numb. It shouldn't be this easy for him to walk back into her life after everything he'd put her through. But he was Puck, and she was Quinn, and something about them being together was just right. In the sickest of ways.

"You, mostly." She said it so quietly he wasn't sure if he heard her correctly. But he was nothing if he wasn't a confident mother fucker, so he leaned in anyway. He didn't kiss her. He just touched her lips with his, whispering, "Me, too."

She laughed, because she was relieved.

"Q.." Puck's voice sounded too loud to be coming from less than an inch away. In fact, it didn't sound like Puck at all. "What are you doing?"

She jumped, Puck cursing because he was so, _so_ close and this asshole ruined it for him. Again. He backed away, running his hand through his hair and rolling his eyes.

"See you later." He said, pushing past Sam to head back to the reception. He knew he was kind of a jerk for leaving Quinn all by herself with him, but he couldn't deal with that shit right now. He punched a tree as he walked by, the bark splitting his knuckles almost instantly. He swore again, this time not giving a fuck who heard him. He was pissed off, and he needed a drink.


End file.
